The Dream Pills - Chapters 7 and 8
Sarah wasn't entirely sure how she had ended up inviting Jones into her apartment after he had walked her home. She certainly hadn't planned it, and had she given the idea any real thought, she definitely would have avoided it. But sometimes, doing things on impulse could be a very wonderful thing.
She had justified it with the suggestion that they could maybe have a coffee and discuss their tactics at the party that evening, but she knew that wasn't the real reason she had invited him inside. She had other things on her mind. Ever since the meeting with Claude at the hotel the previous day, the chemistry between herself and Jones had been obvious. And the more she thought about it, the more she felt that it was better just to run with it than to resist it.
“You're sure you don't mind me being here?” he asked. As before, his politeness made her smile. For a man who was so good looking, his confidence was definitely lacking.
“I invited you in, Jones. Just roll with it.”
“I know,” he said, lifting his hand hesitatingly to her cheek, softly brushing across it. “It's just... I'm not usually like this. I don't want you to think I'm some kind of womaniser. I don't just randomly hop from bed to bed. I'm kind of not sure where we're going with this.”
“You're so wonderfully old-fashioned,” she said. “Am I corrupting you?”
Jones smiled. “If you are, I seem to rather like it.”
He pulled her closer and kissed her. The kiss continued for some time, their lips brushing softly against each other. Something about his touch made her melt.
“Jones...” she began, parting from his lips, “you should know... it's been a while for me too. However impulsive I might have seemed back in that hotel room, however I might seem to you now... well, this is unusual for me too. I don't really have a clue what I'm doing, y'know?”
“That's usually the best way, so they say,” he whispered, and kissed her again, long and slow. As they kissed, she felt his hand rest upon her hip. Not for a second did she consider asking him to remove it. He moved closer to her, his body pressing up close against her, his lips softly gliding down across her neck. She knew she was lost.
Without a thought he pushed her back against the wall, and she responded eagerly. Clothes were quickly discarded, her heart beating harder, their hands all over each other, touching and stroking, and if Sarah hadn't paused to invite him to her bedroom, she felt certain that he'd have fucked her right there in the kitchen, right up against the wall. He was making her feel like a teenager again.
“Fuck me, Jones... I want you to fuck me. Take me to bed.”
Jones growled softly, lifting her up in his arms, carrying her through into the bedroom.
And in bed he was wonderful once again, never seeming to tire, eager to excite her, eager to fuck her repeatedly. His lovemaking wasn't by any means exotic, but he knew how to make her come. The way he held her down, the way he moved against her, his cock always so erect, always so ready, thrusting so very deep inside her.
And that unrelenting passion when he fucked her: the way he looked at her as their bodies mingled, the way her heart beat harder when he gazed at her that way. Something was happening here, and she knew she didn't want to stop it.
And he made the most wonderful sounds when he came. There was an electricity growing between them, her every nerve ending responding to his breath, to his touch, to his scent. She couldn't get enough of him, and the feeling was clearly mutual.
* * * *
Sarah and Jones were finally resting, catching their breath on the bed. The covers were mostly scattered about the floor, the room smelling pleasantly of sex. She loved the feeling of his warm cum deep inside her, that evidence of his lust for her. And she loved the way he held her afterwards, their bodies close, snuggling in the afterglow. She would have happily stayed that way forever. His arms were wrapped around her softly, as though he never wanted to let her go.
“We should talk about the party.” His lips nuzzled into her neck as he spoke, his body spooned around her. “You seemed a little uncertain when Claude told us about it. Are you worried? Would you prefer that I attend alone? I'd understand if you do.”
“No,” she said, “I think we should both be there. Kruger will be expecting both of us, after all. And since we've allowed him to believe that you're my assistant, it would seem strange if I sent you to his party and didn't go myself. We're both going to have to go. I'm just a little worried about... well, about the sexual aspect of the party. I haven't been to anything like this before.”
“We don't need to indulge in those things once we're there,” Jones replied, speaking softly to reassure her, gently stroking her hair. Sarah purred in response. “We can stay on the edges and try to be discreet.”
“I don't think we can do that,” said Sarah. “I think we're going to be watched closely by either Kruger or his aides. We're going to have to look like we're enjoying ourselves, even if we aren't behaving as badly as the others. We're going to need to appear to be comfortable in that scenario. I think that's maybe what's concerning me the most.”
“You're worried about the acting?”
“No, it's not that. Staying in character isn't a problem, it's more about what everyone else will be doing.”
“You're worried about what you might see?”
“Not worried, so much as curious. Claude talked about bondage, about submission, about how these events sometimes descend into an orgy. I'm going to need to make a polite withdrawal before it gets that way. But still, y'know, I've always kind of... wondered about all that kind of stuff.”
“Wondered from an intellectual point of view?”
Sarah smiled. “Sort of, I suppose.” She nuzzled back against him, breathing in his scent. “But it's more than that. I guess I've always wanted to, you know, experience it.”
“So your concern isn't so much that you'll be appalled by what you might see, it's that you might be aroused by it? That it'll appeal to you?”
“I'm certain it'll appeal to me, and that's precisely the problem. If I find that I'm really getting into it, really enjoying what's going on, then it's going to be very difficult not to become aroused by it all. And if I'm aroused, well you've probably noticed, I sort of lose my objectivity. It leaves me a little exposed. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. I need to maintain a professional distance from all of that. We're on a case.”
“And you're concerned that I might be shocked by your arousal?”
Sarah giggled, turning around to face him, drifting her hand across his chest and snuggling closer. “I don't think you're going to be at all shocked by my arousal,” she replied, sliding her hand down his body, feeling his skin warm and soft under her fingertips. “And obviously I'm not going to be shocked by yours either. But we won't be alone at the party. We're going to be surrounded by people we don't know, people we've never met. I'm not sure I want them to see me that way.”
“See you what way?” he grinned.
“Turned on, I guess. Sex for me has always been a private thing. I don't need a whole bunch of complete strangers seeing me naked, you know? That's not something I anticipated when we started this case.”
Jones brushed Sarah's hair from her face and kissed her forehead affectionately. “As I recall, you didn't seem to mind Claude watching us yesterday. If anything I'd say you enjoyed it immensely.”
“Technically, this is true,” Sarah grinned, sliding her hand further down his body. “I suppose I did rather enjoy that. But I wasn't planning on extending that invitation to half of London, y'know?”
“Perhaps that's the real issue,” said Jones, his fingertips drifting through her hair and teasing down the back of her neck. “Perhaps you're more worried about discovering what a disgraceful little exhibitionist you are.”
Sarah giggled and sighed softly at his touch, sliding her leg quickly over his body and straddling him, looking down at him as she settled astride his hips.
“I hope you're not suggesting that I'm a bad girl, Jones. Is that what you're implying?” She slid her body against his, deliberately grinding her sex against his cock. Already she could feel it stirring against her, responding to her movements.
Jones smiled up at her. His hands slid over her hips, holding her in place, and he pulled her down a little more firmly against his growing erection.
“I don't believe I implied it at all,” he said. “I think I actually stated it.”
Sarah pushed against him a little more firmly, teasing his cock with her sex, the lips of her cunt already wet again, sliding slowly back and forth along his shaft.
“Then tell me again,” she whispered, “tell me what a bad little girl I am.”
“Oh, you're a surprise,” he grinned, moving up against her, his grip firmer on her hips, pulling her down against him. His cock was almost fully erect now, warm and throbbing against her wetness.
“Come on, tell me...” she said, “I want it... I want you to tell me I'm a bad little girl... say it to me, Jones...” Her words were dripping with lust now, her cunt delightfully wet as she moved against him. Jones growled softly and flipped her onto her back, still moving against her. His hands took hold of her wrists and pushed them over her head, pinning her down.
“Wicked little girl,” he smiled. “I can see what you want. Do you want to be used? Is that what you need? Do you want me to take you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “yes, Jones, I want that...”
Her cunt was soaking wet, and she could feel his cock moving slickly against her, needing him inside her now, needing him to fuck her.
“You're such a bad little girl,” he breathed, “such a little slut...”
“God yes,” she gasped, “fuck me, Jones... ohh god, please fuck me...”
“Filthy little slut,” he growled, grinning at her, and with one long, hard thrust his cock plunged deep into her cunt. Sarah gasped at his first penetration, wrapping her legs around him, her body arching up towards him. Jones held her down, thrusting into her harder. “Do you want my cock?” he breathed. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes!” she gasped. “Ohh fuck yes. God, I want your cock. Fuck me, Jones. Please. Do it. Fuck me. I want it. Don't hold back...”
eight: the party I
Sarah gave herself plenty of time to choose her outfit for Kruger's party, trying on various combinations, wanting to look as good as she could. She was determined to make an impression, as the success of their whole case depended on making a strong personal connection with Kruger.
Her fashion sense aside, she also needed to persuade him that her business sense and acumen would be invaluable in getting his Dream Pills onto the market. This would clearly involve a great deal of bluffing from her, given that she didn't actually have the first clue how to run a drugs business. The act needed to be convincing. She needed to come across as a smart, powerful business woman, confident and brash.
As they dressed, Jones fired potential questions at her, rehearsing her replies with her, making sure she was consistent. They couldn't be certain what Kruger might throw at her, so the more convincing her answers, the better. The importance of the party was obvious, and she needed to keep her wits about her. Which made the potentially sexual aspect of the event all the more worrying. She would need to be careful not to get too distracted.
She had telegraphed Claude once she and Jones had emerged from bed, asking him for a few pointers for dress protocol. His advice, unsurprisingly, had been to wear as little as possible and to make it sexy and, as he put it, 'slightly perverse'. She was pretty sure that Claude was just stating his own preferences, but Jones had reassured her that, given the nature of the event, his advice was probably good.
Jones had decided to dress in a fitted suit of black velvet, with a matching silk shirt and dark crimson tie. With his shoes shined to a gleam and his hair slicked back, he looked quite the attractive gentleman about town. He was also, Sarah noticed, fully covered and perfectly decent, whereas she was once again feeling distinctly under-dressed. This was becoming a habit.
Her corset was undeniably pretty. It fit a little tighter than she would have preferred, but she loved the way it pulled in her waist, and it made her breasts look spectacular. The stockings and suspenders, however, were something else. Jones had assured her that a skirt was unnecessary, and that wearing just the sheer black stockings with some matching black panties looked 'just fabulous'. She had wanted to wear something over them, but Jones insisted that the only other thing she needed with the corset and the panties was a pair of high heels.
She felt practically naked. Even with the addition of a velvet collar around her neck and a little costume jewellery, this wasn't the way she was accustomed to dressing. It was the first time she could remember leaving her home without at least wearing a skirt or some trousers. She was pretty much heading out on the town in her underwear.
When the cab finally arrived, Sarah insisted on at least wearing a long black coat to disguise the outrageous costume underneath. Jones happily agreed, giving her a hug for courage.
The cab was a simple affair: a black and somewhat old fashioned London taxi, with a large steampipe at the back chugging quietly, and what appeared to be only minimal suspension on the wheels. It was going to be a bumpy ride at best, but it was less ostentatious than arriving in her ornithopter. She had felt that it would be better if they didn't go out of their way to draw too much attention to themselves.
Or at least, not until she disrobed in the club. She hoped that she had got the dress code right, or this could be very embarrassing for her.
* * * *
It was early evening and people were starting to fill the streets, heading for the various pubs and nightspots in the West End. The streets were packed with steamcars and cabs, and crowds of pedestrians strolled in groups along the pavements, winding their way around stalls and market sellers. Bicycles of all shapes and sizes weaved their own precarious way amongst the traffic. It was a typically chaotic summer's evening in London, the streets filled with light and life.
Given the choice, Sarah would also have have preferred to be enjoying herself amongst the crowds rather than working in her underwear. But she guessed that one way or another they were in for something of a show themselves this evening. Especially if everything Claude had said about Kruger's parties was true.
“The Hellfire Club, please, driver,” she announced, as she stepped inside the taxi with Jones.
“We'll be there in a jiffy, ma'am.”
A toot sounded from the driver's horn, and the car chugged out into the street, steambikes veering out of the way as they inched into the traffic.
'The Hellfire Club.' It was pretty much the tackiest name Sarah could imagine for a night club, and it had embarrassed her to repeat the name to the cab driver. Especially when she was dressed like a stripper. She squeezed Jones's hand for assurance.
“Don't worry,” he whispered, “just keep your cool. We'll be in and out of there before you know it.”
* * * *
The club was situated at the far end of Denmark Street, and from the outside it didn't look especially exotic. More to the point, it was exactly the kind of venue she had previously avoided. You could never really tell from the outside whether such places were small and intimate, or dark and grungy.
It was at least clear that the clientèle this evening were people with money and a rather decadent lifestyle. A small queue of party-goers were making their way into the venue as Sarah and Jones arrived, all of them clad in a similar style to her. Silk and velvet was in abundance. Most of the women (and a smaller proportion of the men) were wearing collars of one kind or another, and a great deal of bare flesh was on display.
Sarah had thought her own outfit was daring, but it was positively conservative in comparison to the fetish gear that some of the attendees were wearing in the queue. The predominant colour in evidence was black, laced through with reds and purples. High heels were very much on display, and the few skirts being worn were short enough to barely be called skirts.
The gentlemen were suited and booted in velvet and suede, some with canes and top hats, many of them wearing their finest goggles. Sarah regretted not wearing her own. She knew that they suited her, and they might have helped her feel a little less naked.
She was at least relieved that she had chosen the right outfit. As outrageous as her own costume was, many of the women were showing far more than her.
“Just enjoy the event,” Jones said. “Don't give them any reason to be suspicious. Relax and have fun.”
“Easy enough for you to say,” she replied as they eased out of the cab, “you're not out in public in your underwear.” She gave him a slightly sour look.
Rather than joining the small queue, Jones suggested that they simply approach the door and give their names. As British liaisons for Kruger's operation, they theoretically held some clout, and definitely wouldn't have been expected to queue to get in.
“Behave like your shit doesn't stink,” Jones had said. “If you'll pardon the expression.”
His instincts proved to be correct, and they were quickly waved into the club by the bouncer on the door. Sarah slipped a little nervously out of her topcoat and handed it to the girl on reception. It felt like she was stripping down to her underwear. Despite the revealing costumes of the other people walking into the club, Sarah still couldn't avoid the feeling that she was terribly under-dressed. She carried herself as best she could, Jones accompanying her and walking discreetly behind her, brandishing his cane.
“For god's sake keep close to me in here,” Sarah whispered to Jones as they made their way down the staircase, “If I get left alone, god only knows who might approach me when I'm dressed like this.”
“Understood,” said Jones, “Don't worry, Sarah, I won't be leaving your side. Trust me, you look absolutely exquisite.”
The small staircase opened out into a fairly sizeable converted cellar, dark and expensively furnished. It was much larger than Sarah had guessed from the door outside. There was a large dance floor at the foot of the stairs, and three different bar areas scattered around the spacious room. Seven or eight comfortable seating areas were situated here and there, dressed with lavishly-covered sofas and easy chairs. A further staircase led to a gallery above, which contained more sofas, tables and a large white grand piano.
The lighting in the club was low, peppered by neon décor and flashing, spinning globes. Pools of gaslight in an array of bright colours flickered throughout the room. Music was playing through the sound system, with giant horns feeding the latest gramophone chart hits through the club.
A few of the attendees were already dancing, whilst other people gathered at the bar to order drinks. At the moment it just looked like a typical night club, though Sarah had a feeling that the evening was likely to heat up as the night progressed. With luck, she and Jones would be able to make their excuses and leave before anything too kinky or peculiar started taking place.
Not that she was against seeing that sort of thing, but her nerves were currently battling her curiosity, and those nerves were definitely winning. She absolutely didn't want to end up getting involved in something sexual while they were here, whatever Kruger might think to the contrary.
Sarah couldn't quite shake the feeling that this was all just some kind of test. And if that was the case, how should she respond to that test and yet still remain professional and detached?
Kruger had seen the pair arrive, and he flourished down the staircase from the gallery with a pretty young man on each arm. Claude walked behind him, smiling sardonically at her.
“Sarah, how wonderful to see you,” said Kruger. “You're looking suitably divine.” Kruger bowed extravagantly, took her hand and kissed it softly. “I hope you find the venue to your liking.”
“It's an interesting choice, Mister Kruger,” Sarah responded, smiling politely. “I assume you have some kind of floor show in store for us tonight?”
“I do have a little something in store, yes.” Kruger kept hold of her hand and walked with her towards the bar. “Though generally at these parties I prefer to allow the floor show to present itself, if you get my meaning.”
“I'm sure I do,” she replied, inwardly shuddering.
“Though there will of course be certain entertainments to keep you amused.” He waved at the barman, who took their orders and began to prepare the drinks.
“I look forward to it,” Sarah lied. “I fear I won't be able to stay the entire evening, but I'm sure I'll enjoy at least a flavour of it.” She hoped that she didn't sound too stand-offish; she needed to be careful of that. It was far better to allow Kruger to think that this event was just the kind of thing that she loved.
“As you wish,” Kruger responded. “Though I think you'll find yourself reluctant to leave. If you enjoy the party as much as I hope you will, I'll look forward to discussing the first shipment with you tomorrow.” Kruger looked at Jones disapprovingly. “Will your assistant be accompanying you for the entire evening?”
“He's free to enjoy himself as he wishes,” Sarah said, accepting a wine bottle and two glasses from the barman.
“Then I hope he has a wonderful time,” Kruger smiled. “Please excuse me: a host's duties, I'm sure you understand.”
Kruger drifted towards the other party goers as they entered the club, welcoming them warmly. Sarah glanced at Jones, and led him over to a sofa in the corner.
* * * *
The party appeared to get off to a relatively normal start. The doors closed once all the guests had finally arrived, good music played, alcohol was in abundant supply and there was plenty of dancing.
Even Sarah and Jones were indulging in the pleasure of it all. Jones took her for a spin across the dance floor, his grace and poise delighting her. When he smiled at her, it was all she could do not to kiss him passionately, right there in the centre of the dance floor. Was there nothing this man didn't excel at? This was turning into a wonderfully fun night out.
And then the male strippers arrived. Sarah had finally managed to relax, sat at a table with Jones as they caught their breath from the previous dance, feeling as though she had worried too much. But now it was clear that the real entertainment was about to begin. As the grinding music started over the gramophones and the six men took their places on the dance floor, Sarah raised her eyebrow critically.
“Looks like the cheese has finally arrived,” she whispered to Jones.
He laughed softly in return, squeezing her hand to reassure her of his presence. Her first instinct had been to suggest to Jones that they leave, but he dissuaded her.
“If we go this early we'll seem like prudes,” he said, “just relax and go with it. They're not so bad looking after all.” He smiled wryly at her.
And he had made a good point. As the routine began and the dancers moved to the music, she had to admit that she was enjoying the show. Shirts were quickly tugged off from broad male chests, trousers were soon discarded, and despite the shallowness of the performance she could definitely see the aesthetic appeal of these six young men. They were choreographed perfectly, and by the time they were stripped down to minimal g-strings, Sarah was undeniably having a good time watching them. So she liked seeing men strip. Who would have guessed?
But the strippers' act didn't end there. The music continued as they danced, practically naked now, their bodies rippling with muscles, bumping and grinding, their movements increasingly erotic and brazen. Sarah could feel a shift in the atmosphere in the club, as though many of those watching already knew what was to come next and were eagerly anticipating it. Suddenly it felt a little wilder, and copious cheering was coming from various women sat at the tables around the dance floor, who clearly wanted to see more.
Happy to oblige the demands, each of the strippers began to stroll from the dance area in their g-strings and mingle amongst the tables, still moving to the increasingly sensual music, smiling and laughing as one or two women got a little braver, touching the dancers as they walked by, eager to get closer to them.
“Keep your head down,” Sarah whispered to Jones, “I don't want any of them coming over here.” She eased back in her seat, relieved that they'd chosen a table towards the back of the club.
“I could probably do without it too,” he said, giving her a wry smile.
But despite her reluctance to get involved, she couldn't help herself from watching when she saw what was happening at the next table. A stripper had wandered right up to the small group of girls sat around the table, smiling as one of them slid her hand across his g-string. He swayed provocatively in front of the girl, grinding his hips to the music, encouraging her to keep touching him, and her friends goaded her on, laughing and giggling.
Sarah drew in her breath, watching the girl wink at the dancer and tug his g-string slowly all the way down his muscled legs, revealing his sizeable cock. The dancer wiggled in front of the girl's face, teasing her with his cock, seemingly not at all bothered by being naked in front of her.
Around them, mingling amongst the tables as they danced, the other strippers were also letting the women touch them, encouraging them to tug down their loosely tied g-strings, clearly unembarrassed at being that exposed in front of them. Before long, all six dancers were completely naked, swaying to the rhythms, moving from table to table around the room, enjoying the attention of the women. They were also starting to become visibly aroused, their cocks growing as they moved to the music, displaying themselves to the girls as they danced.
Sarah wasn't sure which way to look, and half-wondered if she wouldn't be behaving just as badly if she had been here with a group of girlfriends, laughing and whooping just the same. But she reigned in her thoughts. Kruger didn't need to see just how wild she could become when she was turned on.
Or at least, that's what she was trying to tell herself. And yet she couldn't take her eyes from that first dancer, wiggling his hips so provocatively in front of the girl at the table next to her. The girl had managed to completely remove his g-string, and as he danced for her she was still touching him, her friends egging her on as her fingertips worked their way up along the inside of his legs. The dancer smiled at her and moved closer, giving her an absolute invitation to go further, his cock a little swollen now, almost erect as he gyrated in front of her, teasing her.
Sarah was unable to look away. She had never seen anything like this before – a naked man virtually waving his cock in front of a girl's face, in full view of everyone else at the nightclub. And no-one seemed to mind at all - if anything, the girl's friends were encouraging both of them. Sarah was fascinated and appalled in equal measure. She was also, despite her misgivings, getting rather turned on.
The girl had clearly had enough of being teased by the dancer. As her friends encouraged her, she reached up boldly and slipped her hand around his cock, sliding her fingers gently along his length, stroking him in slow rhythm as he moved in front of her.
Sarah couldn't quite believe it. She had never seen anything like this before – audience participation was all well and good, but the girl was stroking the stripper's cock, masturbating him right in front of her face, in full view of her friends and the rest of the club. Was this what Kruger had meant when he said he liked the floor show to present itself? Did this kind of thing always happen at these parties? Sarah half-wondered if it was about time that they left, but she was still rooted in her seat, unable to tear her gaze away from the sight, her curiosity overcoming her. She could feel herself throb delightfully, anticipating the girl's next move.
And suddenly there it was – as the dancer slipped his hand through the girl's hair, drawing her closer to him, she smiled up at him, steered the head of his growing cock towards her lips and took him eagerly into her mouth, practically devouring his cock. The dancer looked down at her, groaning softly as his cock slid between her lips, pushing it deeper into her mouth, his grip firmer in her hair as she licked and sucked him, lapping at him.
Without even thinking, Sarah let her hand stray to Jones's thigh, gripping onto it as she saw the dancer shove his cock deeper into the girl's mouth, her friends clearly enjoying the show, one of them starting to touch herself as she watched, her face flushed.
And the girl wasn't the only one being so bold. Women at the other tables were becoming equally intimate with the strippers. Sarah could see two more of the dancers being masturbated by the giggling women around them, their cocks delightfully erect. The other three dancers were being just as provocative, encouraging girls to touch them, happy to let it happen. As Sarah glanced around the room, she saw one of the dancers whisper something into a woman's ear, smiling as she nodded and then picking her up in his arms, leading her into a darker corner of the room.
“Perhaps you're right,” Jones whispered, “maybe we should think about leaving. I think the real party is about to take place. It's getting a little wild in here. Are you still okay?”
He turned to look at her, smiling softly, clearly concerned about her.
Sarah turned to face him, realising she was a little flushed and hoping he wouldn't notice.
“Would you mind if we watched... just for a little while? I know it's bad of me and I realise this is all a bit cheesy, but it might be fun to spectate for a short while. We can slip away soon.”
Jones smiled and gave her a reassuring hug. “Of course I don't mind, if that's what you want. Let me go fetch us both another drink, it's getting a little warm in here.” He smiled again and kissed her on the cheek, easing up from the sofa.
Sarah watched him walk across to the bar, enjoying the way he moved, her gaze drifting down his body, suddenly imagining him as naked as the dancers, picturing his cock between those women's lips, fucking their mouths. Sarah felt another warm rush at her sex. She was absolutely going to have to fuck Jones when they arrived back at her apartment. She needed it now more than ever.
As Jones ordered their drinks at the bar, Sarah's gaze fell back onto the girl at the table next to her, wanting to see more, wondering how far she would go.
The dancer was now forcefully pushing his cock into the girl's mouth, his hand gripping her hair as he slid in and out of her lips, his cock firmly erect. The girl was clearly enjoying it, her friends still giggling, a couple of them sliding their hands over his body as he pushed his cock deeper in her mouth. Her hand was already down between her own legs, her short skirt hiked up to give herself more access, touching herself as she sucked him. Sarah gasped, almost unable to look away.
Feeling oddly indiscreet for gazing at them so openly, Sarah tore her gaze from them and looked around the room, seeing Claude over by one of the bars, talking to a particularly attractive looking girl. Sarah recognised her as one of the two bodyguards Kruger had employed at the meeting in the crypt.
Around the room, despite the loud music, Sarah could hear gasps drifting around the club. Two of the dancers had disappeared from view, but in dark corners she could see people kissing and touching, the sensuality in the club rising. Glancing back towards Claude, she saw him push the girl back against the wall and kiss her, his hand gliding down her body, drifting over her panties. The girl visibly trembled as Claude touched her, pushing her crotch against his exploring fingertips.
Sarah bit her lip, feeling another rush of wetness from her sex as she saw his fingers gently stroke the young girl though her panties, his fingertips circling in slow rhythm, the girl drawing Claude closer against her and kissing him passionately.
Sarah found herself wondering what it would be like to watch Claude in the same way that he had watched her, seeing him fuck another girl, performing on the bed for her pleasure. She knew that she wouldn't have been able to resist climbing onto the bed with them, touching them both, wanting to be far more than just a voyeur. How did Claude resist those impulses?
Her mind wandered, picturing him on his back, the girl riding his cock eagerly, imagining herself straddling his face, masturbating over him as she kissed the girl passionately.
Sarah quickly dismissed the thought from her head and turned away, her sex throbbing. The sights and sounds in the club were pushing her arousal way too far. She was intensely turned on, barely able to control herself. She knew she needed to calm down.
Claude wasn't the only one starting to enjoy the event a little more thoroughly. Around the room other couples were beginning to pair off. Some were slipping away into darker corners of the club. Others were kissing each other more openly, enjoying being seen, the heat in the club rising as their passions increased.
And it wasn't simply couples getting together. Here and there girls were kissing too, their hands touching each other, stroking and exploring, the sensual atmosphere in the club spurring them on.
Sarah was very wet. She could feel the wetness dampening her panties, aware that it might be visible, crossing her legs to disguise it as best she could. She looked back at the first table she'd been watching, wanting to see more, no longer caring if they saw her, too turned on to care.
The girl's friends had moved back a little to give the pair more room, their drinks rescued from the table. The girl was now bent right over it, her breasts spilling out of her corset, her silk panties tugged all the way down. The dancer was stood behind her, masturbating openly as he looked down at her, clearly about to fuck her from behind. Two of the girl's friends were kissing each other intermittently as they watched, the third girl not taking her gaze off the man, her fingers firmly down inside her panties and rubbing herself rhythmically.
Sarah could barely take her eyes off the dancer's cock, defiantly erect in his hand, his fingers pumping back and forth along his erection as he steered it down towards the girl's sex, rubbing it against the lips of her cunt. The girl moaned, spreading her thighs further. With a growl he grabbed onto her hips and pushed his cock all the way into her cunt, thrusting hard and deep inside her.
Sarah stifled a small groan, watching the dancer push his cock harder inside her. The girl was gripping the edge of the table, pushing herself back against him, needing more, desperate for it. He rammed his cock harder and harder, his belly slapping against her ass as he fucked her. It was all Sarah could do not to touch herself, her body trembling, aware of her own scent as her wetness pooled at her sex, incredibly turned on.
“I hope you're enjoying the show.” The voice was sardonic but friendly.
Startled from her reverie, Sarah looked up to see Claude arriving at her table, accompanied by the young woman he had been touching earlier. She was now holding his hand and standing quietly next to him, looking a little flushed.
“Allow me to introduce Catherine,” he said, indicating the girl next to him. “Catherine, this is my good friend and business associate, Sarah Chance.”
Claude gave Sarah a sly wink, and Sarah smiled back at him as she shook Catherine's hand, inviting them both to sit with her.
“This is quite a show,” Sarah said, grateful for the brief interruption and the chance to catch her breath, determining to look away from the action over at the other tables before it pushed her into doing something she might regret in the morning. “Are Kruger's parties always like this?”
Behind Claude, Sarah could still see the dancer fucking the girl hard over the table, her friends kissing and masturbating around her. She did her best not to think about it.
“Trust me, the party has barely started,” Claude said, a wicked glint in his eye. “I've attended a few of Kruger's get-togethers in Paris over the past couple of months. He likes to make sure his guests have a good time.”
“So I noticed,” Sarah replied. “It's getting a little wild.”
As if to emphasise her statement, the sounds of an intense orgasm drifted across the room. Sarah turned to look, seeing the girl at the table next to her coming intensely over the dancer's cock, clinging onto the table desperately as she shoved herself back against him, the dancer continuing to pound relentlessly into her cunt. The girl threw her head back, screaming as he drove deeper, another orgasm about to flood through her. The dancer grabbed a fistful of her hair and dragged her back hard against him, thrusting more urgently into her cunt. Sarah felt another warm flood at her sex, trying to push back her own arousal, insanely turned on.
“You sort of get used to it,” Claude smiled, ignoring the disturbance. He slipped his arm around Catherine's shoulder as she snuggled closer to him. “Will you be indulging yourself, or are you still intending to depart early? I think you'll miss a great deal of fun if you do.”
Sarah glanced again at the table next to her, her sex pulsing again as she saw the dancer tug his cock from the girl's cunt, stroking his cock hard, a jet of cum arcing from his cock, spattering over the girl's back.
“I haven't decided yet,” she said, biting her lip. “I must admit to being in two minds, for reasons I'm sure are obvious.” She glanced across to the bar to see Jones finally returning with their drinks. “I may leave the decision to Jones. He's far more sensible than me, I'm sure.”
“It's getting a little debauched down here,” Jones commented as he reached the table. “Should we head upstairs to the gallery area? It might be easier for us to talk.”
“Didn't I tell you he was the sensible one?” Sarah smiled amiably to Claude, but he simply raised his eyebrow in response and gave her a cheeky wink.
“If you say so,” he said wryly as Sarah got up from the sofa, taking her drink from Jones.
Claude grinned at them both and led them through the tables towards the staircase.